Clears Skies
Book one of The Weather (Series) xD Hope this series goes well o_o Sunset 18:04, August 15, 2010 (UTC) Prolgue He rolled in the leaves, letting the sun bathe his pelt though the canopies ahead. Never felt better before, the black and white tom sighed in relaxation. The elders always told him again and again, that the peaceful era of now was heaven'(I was going to say Starclan, but it sounds more peaceful with heaven xP)' compared to the times before. War and anguish. Sleetpaw could not give any mousedung. It was all past, right? He yawned and curled. No reason to be worked up about old cats with a bunch of scars. Lazily, he licked his paw and ran it over his face. Life's sweet. -_-_-_- "The clans are getting out of control," Puddlefoot hissed, tail lashing. Leaptail, who just died of a heart attack, yawned. "What do you mean, out of control?" He rolled his eyes. "Oldies are so mousebrained. We're more docile than sleeping dormice." Puddlefoot's icy gaze bored into his pelt with anger. But she stayed quiet and swiveled her head to watch the dormant apprentice below her. Sleetpaw was one of the many cats of Valleyclan who took peace for granted. They even forgot border patrols, even missed gatherings. Strayed into each others territories.. Disrespected elders. The black tom started to scratch his ear. "Man, Starclan's boring. I don't know anyone here. I wish I was back, alive," he sighed. Leaptail watched Sleetpaw with longing. Snarling, Puddlefoot muttered, "Well, you would have been alive if you took some time to exercise, and not just laze around." An idea struck her. Ears high in the air, Puddlefoot poked Lemonclaw, who was asleep, beside her. He woke immediately, and with a start. "What is it?" he asked alertly. Puddlefoot felt affection for her life-long, and death-long friend. He was what a real warrior should be, not those bums alive, below them. Alive. "Lemonclaw, don't you agree that we need to spike up their lives? Do something? The peace, I regret to say, has got to their heads. They're taking life for granted." Lemonclaw wrinkled his golden nose. "Are you saying we should kill them?" he teased. Puddlefoot giggled. "They're quite infuriating," Puddlefoot's eyes flickered to Leaptail, playing with a butterfly. "But they're good cats." "So what do you suggest we do?" Lemonclaw leaned forward in intense interest. Puddlefoot's eyes glimmered. "Your idea was close." Chapter One Sleetpaw padded slowly to camp. His eyes were weighed down with his nap (that lasted from morning to the afternoon). But he flicked that thought off. Valleyclan didn't need his help. There would be no invasions. As he cheerfully padded into camp, a foreign sound came to his ears. He scowled; it didn't sound right. He spotted Pricklepaw eating a sparrow or two by the fresh kill pile. The pile was small, as the cats caught their own prey when they were hungry. It being leaf-fall, the idea is excellent. "What's that noise?" Sleetpaw asked. Pricklepaw shrugged. His brother's black pelt was scruffy. "Looks like you took a nap as well," Sleetpaw joked. But they didn't laugh; they were too tired for that. "Bamboofur, birth," Pricklepaw burped. Sleetpaw nodded. "Oh. I guess I'll check up on her, then," he decided absentmindedly. Giving no sign that he was listening, Pricklepaw went back to his bird. Sleetpaw padded to the nursery. The clan was tiny, the rooms huge, so it was more efficent to walk to each den. Hollowstar's smart, Sleetpaw yawned. He thought that if he hadn't taken a break when he walked to camp from the forest, he would have died of tire. Finally, he reached the nursery. Bamboofur, as Pricklepaw said, was on her side, breathing heavily. Ravenstone, the medicine cat, was by her side. Sleetpaw, personally, didn't like him. Ravenstone was too sharp, too active. He was annoying, always bright-eyed and telling the clan what to do. "Why don't you go on a patrol, Sleetpaw? Change the elder's dens, Sleetpaw?" He wasn't his mentor. Darknose, the mate of Bamboofur, was by her. Napping. Grinning, Sleetpaw thought, Now that's a cat I can look up to. Bamboofur's eyes suddenly shot open. "WHY DOES IT HURT? IT HURTS, IT HURTS, MAKE IT STOP!" she bellowed. Sleetpaw winced; he wished she could shut up. She was so loud. Immediately, Ravenstone bent over her head to try and comfort her. "It's alright, Bamboofur-" but he was cut off. "YOU MOUSEBRAIN, HOW CAN IT BE ALRIGHT? IT HURTS!" Beaming, Sleetpaw recalled, That's the spirit. "It may hurt, but it's going to be fine," Ravenstone cooed. Sleetpaw's claws slid out. The dark gray tom was so annoying, and Sleetpaw just wanted for Ravenstone to stop talking. But he knew that if he attacked Ravenstone, he'd lose precious energy. His eyes dimmed. I'll let the other haters get to him, he decided. Then Sleetpaw curled up and went to sleep, next to Bamboofur's writhing body. He gave her a kick, and she stopped fidgeting. When Sleetpaw closed his green eyes, the last thing he was was Ravenstone's cold glare. Get a life. Category:Fan Fictions